


a pluck away from kismet

by Justausernameonline



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Flash Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:01:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22467541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justausernameonline/pseuds/Justausernameonline
Summary: The axe resonates around her hand when curiosity approaches her in the space of a sunrise. It sits on the kitchen table, incongruous beside the cutlery, but she keeps it there regardless, watching the blade of bone writhe every now and then, burnishing the room a dark amber to rival outside. “Are you sure this will help slice the vegetables?”
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg & Marianne von Edmund, Marianne von Edmund/Edelgard von Hresvelg
Comments: 1
Kudos: 37





	a pluck away from kismet

The axe resonates around her hand when curiosity approaches her in the space of a sunrise. It sits on the kitchen table, incongruous beside the cutlery, but she keeps it there regardless, watching the blade of bone writhe every now and then, burnishing the room a dark amber to rival outside. “Are you sure this will help slice the vegetables?”

“I said it in jest, but… I thought we could spare a moment.” Edelgard steps in her line of sight, grim, although the expression is offset by the flour marking her clothes and face. Once she wipes her hands on a cloth, she runs them up the handle, finding a solid grip before she lifts it clean off the table. “What you will find may surprise you.” Her voice is gentle, sure, barely noticeable above the simmering pot behind them.

“I-I’ll certainly try.” Marianne lets the axe stand to its full height, suppressing the shiver that runs through her, even the days its burning glow dimmed beneath blood and dirt. She raises it for a precious moment, finding her breath, for she is building a path, one where the woman that blunders through pasta and the woman who bows to none meet.

This detail is more obvious than she realized, spared by its seamless blend into the landscape of Edelgard, as rivers do, meeting the ocean. It unbalances her as she sits it on the floor once more. Distantly, she lets it. There is a lifetime to unraveling one’s mysteries, and a single morning is all but a knotted pinch of thread. “It must have a name.” “

"Aymr.”

“A beautiful name for a terrible thing.”

“Perhaps. Without the will of the hand that guides it, it cares not.” Edelgard picks a vegetable, a bell pepper, and examines it like a gem.

Marianne can only breathe, a litany of worries bubbling on her tongue, as Edelgard twirls the pepper by the stem, her mouth set in a firm line. “Surely they do not have a set purpose? I know a crow. They would… they would weave fur and cloth into their nests.”

“Is that so?” Edelgard looks up. Her guileless smile reaches into Marianne, plucking the most stirring notes.

Marianne nods. “They saw beyond what was there.” She steps toward Edelgard tentatively, drawn by a spark to tuck Edelgard’s hair behind her ear with a shaking hand, and it seems like it’s Edelgard’s turn to be breathless. “I thought they were confused, at first. But as time went on, I learned they didn't only settle for the twigs and leaves. They liked the fur and hair for what each could be. They made each their own, and for that, they survived the cold nights.”

Her words sound silly, but she waits, gaze fixed on the very Crest Stone that matches hers. It is an awful thought, that this is how she tries to breach the gap between, unintended and undesired. She remembers all the leaps they took before and loosens her grip. "Even when their nest broke, they would build it again, any season, any day." 

“What a bird they must be,” says Edelgard, lips brushing Marianne's ear like song, as she trades pepper for Aymr, setting it aside. “I see a kindred spirit, looking beyond what they had and what they felt were owed.” There’s a new rhythm in her step when they both return to the kitchen table and Marianne gives her a proper knife, gently guiding her wrist with each cut, an easier silence than the hour before. “How is your friend, if I may ask?”

“Better,” Marianne replies. She likes it when Edelgard’s smile grows with the pile of sliced vegetables. “One day, I'll show you their nest.”

“That would be lovely, Marianne.”


End file.
